


Give Em Hell

by balorsdemon



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, Arguing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-30 00:09:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19030768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/balorsdemon/pseuds/balorsdemon
Summary: Set a few days prior to Money In The Bank. Finn and Mox only ever argue about work.





	Give Em Hell

**Author's Note:**

> Just a note that they're married in this, and when it says Jon, I am referring to the character Moxley, not his real life self. It just felt awkward to write Mox, and Dean didn't seem appropriate given the fact he's now with AEW. I'll probably come around. I just had this idea and had to get it out.

“You know you could stay if you wanted to,”  


Finn already knew where this was going. Jon said things like this, especially as of late, and it was hard to form a response to.  


Finn had come home to Vegas the day prior, and was already having to think about leaving again tomorrow. The time away from Jon in Europe for the WWE Live tour was rough on him. Now it felt like he blinked and had to leave again. He didn’t want to have to fly back across the country away from his husband.  


“Babe, you know I would if I could.” He sighed, scratching at his beard as he leaned against their kitchen counter.  


That only caused Jon to frown more, lips curling into a snarl. “You could though,” he said gruffly, crossing his arms over his chest.  


“I can’t,”  


“Why not?” Jon demanded.  


Finn sighed, chewing on the inside of his lip. He didn’t want to do this right now.  


“Well, for one, I’m under a contract. I have to be there.”  


“Screw the contract. I haven’t got to see you in almost two weeks.” Jon knew he was being selfish by saying that; Finn would be in big trouble if he just ‘opted out’ of a pay-per-view. There was no faking sick for this.  


“I know, babe. I know,” Finn crossed the space between them, tugging at Jon’s crossed arms so he could pull him into a hug, not letting go until he felt Jon relax into it. The man was so damn stubborn. “I can’t walk away. This was the dream; I’ve got to see it through.”  


“You just said was,” Jon pointed out, pulling back from Finn’s embrace to look down at him with a serious expression.  


Finn blinked, realizing he was right. Damn. “It still is. Reality… reality is just different from my expectation,” he said carefully, picking his words meticulously. They’d been down this road before.  


Jon barked out a dry laugh. “Yeah, ain’t that the truth,”  


A pause of silence fell between them, and Finn took the time to step away fully from the embrace, hopping up to perch on the kitchen island, his feet dangling as he stared down into his lap.  


“I’m just tired of them treating you like shit,” Jon said, bumping the toe of his shoe against a lower cabinet as he gazed over at his husband. Finn’s eyes upturned, blue meeting blue, his face fixed with a soft frown.  


“It’s not that bad anymore,” he mumbled quietly, picking at some dead skin on his hands. “The live events have been a lot of fun, and I’m at least in the money in the bank contract match. I didn’t expect that to happen.”  


Jon swallowed; his back teeth clenched. “Okay,” He didn’t even look at Finn this time.  


Finn’s frown deepened, not enjoying the feeling that for some reason Jon didn’t believe him. “It’s true. It’s gotten a lot better lately. I’ve been enjoying work more,” he said defensively.  


“Who are you trying to convince, me or you?” Jon asked, his voice laced with anger. Finn practically recoiled at the harsh words.  


A tense silence fell between them. Finn pushed himself off the counter and to his feet, shaking his head as he looked at Jon then stalked away. Part of him just wanted to slap Jon for saying that, but Finn knew his words held truth. A harsh truth, but still the truth.

\---------------------------------------------------

It was hours before they spoke again, each of them in separate areas of the house. Finn had originally stalked off to their back porch, needing some air and a moment to clear his head. After taking some time to cool off, he’d curled up in the living room and lost himself in some comics.  


His phone buzzing against his thigh pulled him away from the reading he’d been doing.  


_Dinner’s ready._  


He set his comic down, stretching his legs and arms as he got up from his awkward position he’d been settled into. Finn shuffled past Jon in the kitchen, mumbling a quiet thank you as a he grabbed a plate. Jon just grunted in response, stepping out of his way to go get himself something to drink.  


“Sit outside with me?” he asked once Finn had plated his dinner. Finn nodded and followed him out to the porch, sitting down and staring at his plate in silence.  


Jon looked at him, willing him to look up. He didn’t ever like arguing with Finn. The silent treatment was worse than them yelling at each other. He almost preferred it; at least things were being said then.  


“Look… I’m sorry I said what I did earlier,” Jon began, setting down his silverware to focus on his husband.  


Finn glanced up, shaking his head. “No, no, you were right. Sometimes I think I kid myself into thinking things are better than they really are. But it feels like I have to sometimes. I have to relish what good things I do get.” He said, his voice forlorn.  


Jon felt like he’d been punched in the gut, seeing his husband’s sad face. “You’re one of the best wrestlers I know, babe. It’s not your fault they can’t see the talent standing right in front of them. I just… I get so mad when they mistreat you. You could be doing so much more than what you’re given.”  


Finn picked at his food, pushing it around. “Yeah,” he whispered, wanting to sink down and become one with his chair. Jon’s words resonated strongly with him, and though they should’ve done something to make him feel a bit better, he felt like he’d been filled with lead. He knew his own potential, and it felt like a hot knife cutting his skin every time a good opportunity passed him by. It was the most frustrating feeling.  


“I can’t come this weekend, it’d be way too weird, but I’ll be watching. Call me after?” Jon pressed, gazing across the small table at his husband. Finn nodded, still pushing his food around. Jon wanted to bang on the table, make him look up, but he knew it’d startle Finn and he could sense his fragile state at the moment. He didn’t want to break his spirit any more than he had.  


“No matter the bullshit, I know you’re going to be fucking amazing. You always are.” Jon reassured, reaching across the table to settle his larger hand over Finn’s. Finally, he got him to meet his gaze. “What was it you said at the Takeover in Blackpool? Best Irish wrestler in the world?” Jon teased, smirking slightly.  


This caused Finn’s lips to twitch into a smile for a split second, and Jon took it as a win. “Give ‘em hell, for me.”


End file.
